The movie portrayal of Nawab Siraj-ud-Daula as the last independent ruler of Bengal, Bihar and Urissa is pretty much etched in the minds of Bengalis.
In East Pakistan, the late1960s social and political turmoil, triggered by unjust treatment by West Pakistan, found cinematic expression through the Bangla movie Siraj-ud-Daula, where oppression in real life, perpetrated by an authoritarian West Pakistan regime, was represented by the British in an 18th century setting.
Filmed totally as a metaphor for the turmoil preceding the war of independence in 1971, the movie tried to find resonance between the fall of the Nawab on June 23, 1757, and the two hundred years of subjugation, first under the imperialists and then Pakistan, leading eventually to a unified rise for liberty.
At a time when the nation had to be galvanised by all mediums, the film’s high-pitched emotions appeared apt. However, in a fit of emotion, no one seemed bothered about the long term implications of letting an embellished movie influence a nation’s idea of a person or persons. It’s true, Siraj was the last Nawab and he fought the British to be usurped through a conspiracy, but all the other virtues piled on him are mere fiction.
The problem is that the myth around Siraj has been allowed to grow to such an extent that people regard him as an unblemished saint. Historical records speak otherwise.
Historian Golam Hossain Tabatabai writes about how Siraj had come to be detested, and Ghulam Husain Salim has written about his harshness of temper, and other less-than-flattering characteristics.
English historians have also written about the harsh nature of the young Nawab, but the writers use the two mentioned above so that no controversy is created as to the background of the historians, and allegations of prejudice are not made.
Do we need historians to open our minds and save us from a stereotyped opinion? Siraj was barely 25 when he was killed, and there is always a certain impetuosity coupled with immaturity that is guiding force at that age. Siraj was still a novice, a fledgling in matters of palace intrigue and royal machinations.
That his aunt would conspire to have him removed to place her son on the throne should have been the expected move. Go back a few hundred years to the reign of Akbar. His son Selim (later Jahangir) revolted against his father, and took over the throne, before reconciling again with Akbar.
After the death of Akbar, Selim had his son imprisoned and blinded, for revolting against him, emerging as Emperor Jahangir. Following that, we saw other situations involving plotting against one's family in the subsequent wars of succession.
The point remains – conspiracies go back hundreds of years – hence the plot hatched by Mir Jafar and others, which is referred to in the movie, was not unusual.
In 1757, the whole scenario of plotting had an outsider: The English. The British had, over time, ratcheted up their defenses and with the seven years’ war raging across Europe, increased armament of their fortifications, fearing war with the French trading industry as an extension of their main conflict.
Siraj regarded this as a threat for good reason, setting the scenario for a war with the European traders. This confusion provided a fertile ground for those seeking to remove the Nawab. In due time, a deal was made with the British. In between, many became involved because of monetary gains – to bring this into perspective, modern day wars also have profiteers in the form of multinational oil, gas companies and so on. Very few things have changed actually! Only the costumes, weapons and war strategies!
Coming to Mir Jafar, he wanted to be Nawab. What few people know is that in a short while he became tired of being a subordinate to the British, secretly asking the Dutch to come to topple them. The latter sent seven ships from Java, but were defeated by the British in the battle of Chinsura.
Let’s not think about what would have happened if the English had lost, but this much is certain, Mir Jafar did tire of the British, wanting a way out. He made a mistake trusting the British in the first place and tried to make amends – regrettably, no one wants to remember that.
For Mir Jafar, the title of the ultimate traitor seems to be reserved for eternity. Interestingly, in the contemporary history of Bangladesh we find many characters changing colours conveniently with the change of governments, but they are never publicly denounced or given pejorative titles.
Despite the avarice and greed of Mir Jafar, he tried to end the authority of the English. Not to forget, his son-in-law, Mir Qasem, who, put on the throne after the English discovered Mir Jafar’s Dutch connections, waged the failed Battle of Buxar against the East India Company.
Therefore, let’s refrain from sticking to absolute definitions on these characters based on a film, which, from an objective perspective, is steeped in hyperbole. Siraj-ud Daula was the local ruler but in no way was he as perfect as the film portrayed.
Also, he was a weak decision maker with lack of foresight. When a thunderstorm came on the day of the battle, the company covered its weapons and gunpowder as the Nawab’s gunpowder and weapons got wet. Later, the rate of firing became slow – a major cause for ultimate defeat.
Even with Mir Jafar’s betrayal, Siraj could have won if he had stayed on to fight but he fled to Murshidabad and then, instead of fortifying the city, ran again with his wife and children.
In recalling Plassey, it’s infantile to harp on the so-called immaculate attributes of Siraj, the total villainy of the British and the damnable back-stabbing of Mir Jafar.
Be that as it may, Plassey was lost because fate had decided the outcome, the British won because another empire had to rise from the ashes of the decadent Mughal dynasty. Treachery, greed, traitors were never the main reasons, only peripheral ones.